Funny, isn't it... they make you promise before God and everyone else to love and cherish each other through thick and thin, for richer,for poorer, in good times and bad, yada, yada, yada, when all along anyone sitting out there in the pews (or garden, or chapel, or whatever) who's been married for more than seven years (or fewer, depending on the couple) knows full well that such a heady commitment is so much easier said than done.

Of course, when you are young and in love and the hormones are flowing, you can't be bothered by the seemingly inconsequential details of thick/thin/sickness/health/richer/poorer -- you just wanna tie the knot.

I mean, of course you take your vows seriously, but you really don't have a flipping clue what you are agreeing to when you say "for better, for worse."

Experience says, however, that THAT might be a good time to politely interrupt the vows and say to the minister, priest, justice of the peace or Elvis impersonator, "Define 'worse'."

You see, sometimes, "worse" in marriage doesn't always mean big, bad stuff. No, what I have discovered is that it's often the little, picky stuff that truly gets in the way of matrimonial bliss.

He NEVER picks up his socks.She NEVER refills the empty toilet paper roll.He snores too loud.She smacks her lips when she chews her food.

And so forth and so on.

Sounds horribly petty, I know. But after more than 10 years, trust me, little annoying idiosyncracies like that can morph The Happy Couple into The Bickersons in a nano second.

Yes, growing old together, while it can be comforting, also serves up a whole plate of splendiferous marital issues you never dreamed were possible back in the day when you were standing wistfully and blissfully ignorant at the altar saying "I do."

For example, both John and I are losing our hearing -- John more so than me -- but nevertheless, we have made a pact that we must never try to talk to each other if one of us is in the other room. I mean, we're not exactly to the point of having to read each other's lips, but it creeps closer every day.

So, in an attempt to be romantic this a.m., I sauntered up to him and, directly into what I thought was his good ear, cooed, "This is the week of our anniversary!"

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Life at 58...Yikes-a-Roni! For me, Annie, life coming around The Home Stretch has been nothing like I imagined it would be from the illusionary vantage point of 30.What happened to Easy Street? When did my hormones shrink? When did the crows lend my eyes their feet? And at what point did I lose the strength to open a jar of pickles?Sound familiar? If so, grab a cuppa joe, sit back and soak up my searing post-menopausal insight and wisdom set to some great tunes! Thanks for stopping by The Home Stretch!